A poem should preach

yet speak crystal-pitched truths

I have become cynical enough

to believe

that people do not care to change

that the materialists

will always drool to consume

and that no honesty I could speak

will ever make them aware

of their dangerous gluttony

af

(written with pen on paper)

There is a poem in every moment

as every moment is poetry in itself:

the paperball hookshot rebound with the hobo

a puppy thrust upon me in an outdoor café

as her owner pleads to the police anonymously

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I have compassion for the plight of the homosexual

The sadness of a beaten life weighs always heavy on

a heart as mine, a heart that is often drawn to

the consolation of the outcasts and misfits of humanity

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Try to change

not necessarily because it is needed

but because it is one life only

and there is already so much left unexplained

Rather than making lists of tasks

create one of gifts to get a friend

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SUNRISE

beautiful young girl and I

sneak away

rake through the sand

the plovers eat breakfast

get charged by the ocean

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You are not different because you are strange

It is because you get it

you understand

when you are alone

when all that doubt becomes unbearable

You are not insecure

There is anything but weakness in you

You are vulnerable

sensitive

Your life is about

dissecting energy

sifting through this universe

and adjusting the atoms that

are

all of creation

What you feel is real

Only your definitions are incorrect

af

(written with pen on paper)

I do not do the double meaning of human games

The gift of reason often leads us down the

path of the curse of over-complication

There is so little to be connected to

in this life

that when pieces fit

we should create an adhesive to strengthen the bond

rather than struggle to pry it apart

It seems so simple to me

Such common sense

It is the element that gives us purpose…

as necessary as life itself

af

(written with pen on paper)